Spotlights
by ThatPersonWithTheFace
Summary: I clenched my jaw. "Thats what this is all about? Getting even?" Kendall glared, fists at his sides. "You never had to accept it, James." "I needed a job!" I exclaimed, pushing myself away. Kendall shoved me backwards in aggravation. "Not my job!" Kames
1. Spotlights

**Heres one of the one-shots I worked on while in the hospital. Some parts kinda suck (in my opinion), but idk. This story was just...annoying to write. IDK.**

**But anyway, it took forever to finish so please read! And...**

**Enjoy(;**

* * *

><p>As a kid, my mom always told me I belonged under a spotlight. I was way too talented to be kept in the dark. She dragged me to singing lessons and dance classes while everyone else I knew was skating around the local ice rink, learning how to play hockey. I didn't mind it, focusing on my vocals instead of athletics, but it was lonely. My friends were all hockey players. I was a singer.<p>

One summer when I was ten, we took a family trip to LA. My mom basically worked the entire time while my dad disappeared into bars and clubs. Everyone who knew my parents knew that they weren't happy together. They had an unspoken, mutual agreement to pretend nothing happened and to stay together, despite their unhappiness. _My_ unhappiness.

My mom found me sitting on the roof of our hotel one night after coming back late from a business meeting. "I can't sleep without seeing the stars from my window." I told her, searching the sky. She stared at me thoughtfully and walked to the edge of the building. "Do you want to know why there aren't any stars in the sky here, James?" she asked, turning to look at me.

I shrugged, joining her at the railing. "The city lights are too bright?"

She laughed, draping her arm over my tiny shoulders. "There aren't any stars in the sky because they're all on the ground . Actors, James. Singers."

The way she described them, with such awe and admiration, made them sound like fallen angels. Gods, even. I wondered if she would ever be proud of me if I was famous.

After that, all I ever focused on were my lessons. Anything to get me to the top. To make me famous.

Kendall noticed how focused I was on music and acting. I needed more time to practice, and my friends were feeling the impact.

"We never hang out anymore, man." a fourteen year old Kendall said, lounging against the shingles of my roof.

I sighed, staring at the stars I've grown to love. "I know."

Kendall sat up, staring at me. "Do you even care?"

I blinked, watching him from where I was lying. "What?"

He rolled his eyes and stood up, walking towards my window. "Fuck you, dude."

"Wait!" I shouted, pushing myself up. "I care about a lot of things!"

"Yeah," he folded his arms across his chest. "Like having everyone love you. And looking perfect. And being famous. Just not what matters."

"Oh yeah? And what does?" I asked after a moment. My entire existence was based on being famous. Loved. Perfect. It seemed like all anyone ever cared about anymore. Surely if none of that was important, then I wasn't either.

Kendall scoffed. "Friendship matters, James. Fami-" he cut himself off, clearing his throat. Family was a sensitive subject for both of us, especially for him after his dad walked out on them. "Maybe if you'd stop staring at the stars for five minutes, you'd know this."

"But Kendall," I said, turning back to look at the sky. "Stars are so amazing. The light travels millions of miles just to appear and then-"

"Yeah, I've heard this. In Hollywood, they're on the ground. I know. But do you know what makes these stars so special?" Kendall asked, walking back over to me. I shook my head as he sat down. "They're like little spotlights, shining for you. Like you said, they travel millions of miles, but they do that for you and everything you do. And they're always there, James. The people in Hollywood aren't special enough to have these following them around. But you are."

I tilted my head to the side, sitting down. "Why do I feel like you just recited a Coldplay song?"

Kendall shoved me playfully before lying next to me again. Silence surrounded us as we watched the stars. After a few minutes, a song drifted into my ears.

"Look at the stars, Look how they shine for you, and everything you do..."

Years passed before something life changing happened. A world famous music producer was in Minnesota searching for the next best thing. It was my shot. I could be famous. My life long dream, fulfilled. Maybe my mom would actually notice me. Love me. Want me.

I blew the audition.

It was too much pressure for me. All I ever wanted was practically handed to me on a silver platter, and I couldn't handle it. I was a failure.

Kendall, who didn't even audition, had the 'fire'. Something in him impressed the producer and his assistant so much that they offered him a solo contract on the spot. My heart shattered as he declined and left the room, walking away from my dream.

"What the hell is your problem?" I asked him the afterwards, shoving his shoulder. He stared blankly back at me. I growled, spinning around and exploding out of the emergency exit. A blaring alarm drifted into the distance as I ran through the snow and ice of Minnesota.

_I shouldn't be here_, I thought to myself. _I should be out in Hollywood living the life_. But I wasn't. And there wasn't any silver lining, either. Kendall wasn't taking the deal of a lifetime. He was ruining my dream. Surely if I didn't leave when I did, I would've punched Kendall in the jaw.

How could he do this to me?

_They're like little spotlights_, Kendall's voice bounced through my head as I watched the stars. My feet carried me places I didn't even know. If I was so amazing, Kendall, why did they want you? Was something wrong with me?

I stopped walking then, looking around at my surroundings. Cold tears drifted down my cheeks. Where was I? Trees surrounded the small, snow covered clearing I stood in.

My knees hit the ground. Look at the stars. Look how they shine for you. I screamed out in aggravation, throwing snow up towards the sky. The stars were mocking me.

I've never felt more like a failure.

"James!" a voice called off in the distance. My eyes snapped open. The starry sky above me was replaced by the drywall of my ceiling. "James! You woke up!"

Carlos was perched next to me on the arm of my couch.

I rubbed the sleep out if my eyes. "How did I get here?"

"Kendall carried you! He found you in passed out the woods and brought you home," I growled at his name. It wasn't all a dream. Kendall really did get offered a solo deal instead of me. Kendall rejected it. Kendall ruined my dream.

"But oh yeah! He wanted me to tell you something," Carlos said, scratching his head. I stared at him as blankly as Kendall stared at me last night, waiting for him to continue.

"Right! Kendall took the solo deal. He called Gustavo after he found you. But it's not a solo deal. He's taking us with him."

I sat up quickly. "Are you saying that-"

"We're all going to Hollywood!"

At that moment, I decided Kendall wasn't all that bad after all.

In the beginning, everything was all fun and games. We got an amazing apartment in Los Angeles. We got to record and preform songs and dances for millions of screaming fans. People were paying us to do something we loved. Something fun. To put it simply- we were living the life. The American dream. My dream.

After the first year, we started to party. And when I say party, I don't mean the small apartment parties we had- the ones that got us in trouble but never enough to get us kicked out. I mean hardcore partying. At nightclubs until the sun was just peaking over the horizon. Parties with grinding girls, underaged drinking, and loads of other illegal things.

That was something I loved about Hollywood. Nineteen year olds could be puking in the streets from drinking too much and no cops were ever called. No, the paparazzi were called instead. The image I cared so desperately about suddenly became that much more important. It didn't matter that I was underaged. It mattered that I was famous.

I practically lived and breathed image. Gustavo wouldn't have it any other way. Kendall, though, could never be told what to do. He was a rule breaker, plain and simple.

Which is probably how I ended up slammed against a gritty bathroom wall, panting and moaning as he assaulted my mouth with his own. We were both extremely drunk, grinding against each other for shits and giggles on the dance floor. The next thing I knew, he was sucking and biting my neck.

"I want you," Kendall groaned into my mouth. I smirked, continuing our little makeout session. Who cared if we were caught? It was Kendall, and he _wanted me._

Nothing else happened that night, though. I remember a drunken Carlos stumbling into the small room, breaking us apart and dragging us out to the limo.

We never talked about it.

It's funny how in Hollywood, you forget. You forget that your best friend wanted to be a doctor more than anything. You forget that your best friend was supposed to go play for the NHL. Hell, you even forget that your other best friend has a fantasy about becoming a superhero. All that matters is being noticed. Famous. Loved. And the stuff you didn't forget about, like being kissed by your best friend? That was the stuff you needed to forget the most.

About six months after making out with Kendall in the bathroom of that club, the band broke up.

I remember helping Logan pack his bags for medical school. I thought it was the end of the world. Our little group of best friends was breaking up for the first time since second grade.

Carlos was next, landing an acting job on an up and coming sitcom. He moved out of the apartment, saying he needed to live closer to the set.

It was just the two of us after that.

Kendall and I went to the ice rink a lot to relax. We were lonely without our friends. We needed something to remind us of them. Hockey was the one thing that kept us together besides singing.

A little after my twentieth birthday, a recruitment letter came in the mail. The New York Rangers were in need of a new center. I smiled, immediately handing it over to Kendall along with the rest of his mail.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked later that day, shoving the letter in my face. My eyebrows came together. "No? It just came in the mail today for you-"

"This is for YOU, you asshole!" he flicked the paper at me, storming down the hall. Kendall had pretty bad anger management moments, but this was one of his worst.

"Kendall, wait!" I shouted after him. A slamming door was his reply.

Three days later, I was on a plane to New York while Kendall and Gustavo discussed his new solo career.

Its funny how things work out sometimes. I could see the stars from outside the plane windows._ They shine for you_. Sometimes I felt like the stars were laughing.

All of us pretty much lost contact after that. Logan was always busy at school or at the hospital. Carlos was always filming something. I was always with my team. And Kendall? Well, he was always being famous.

I remember watching him during an interview a few years into my new hockey career. A pair of Ray Bans were hooked on the collar of his expensive button up shirt. He looked nothing like the hockey player from Minnesota. He looked like a superstar.

He used to high five strangers on the street. He didn't look like he would even acknowledge a stranger now. Unless, that is, they wanted an autograph or something.

Two weeks later, Kendall was on a Ray Bans billboard. I almost laughed. Great advertising, really. With his face up there, the sign practically said_ "Don't buy these unless you can handle copious amounts of awesome."_

No one would ever be as awesome as Kendall. At least, that's what the entire teenage population thought.

I wasn't a teenager. Not anymore, anyway.

A week later, in a game against the Pittsburgh Penguins, I busted my knee. A broken leg was nothing to me, just a minor inconvenience. The Rangers disagreed. I'd be out for the rest of the season.

There was always something different about New York these days. I could never put my finger on it until now. I glanced up towards the sky. There were stars for the first time since I've lived here. Shining for me? Yeah right. More like mocking me and my faults.

I used to admire Kendall. He gave up his dream for mine. It didn't work out like that, though. He stole my dream, and I stole his.

I wanted my dream back.

About a year back, I contacted the head coach of the Minnesota Wild. After hours of talking on the phone and emailing each other, I finally convinced him to send a recruitment letter to a Kendall Donald Knight, pop sensation and hockey god. Kendall declined.

It was clear what he wanted. He wanted my dream. And I was okay with that.

I sighed, pushing on the wheels of my wheelchair. I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't care. It was just like the time I ran away after the audition so many years ago. This time, though, Kendall wouldn't be there to carry me home.

Something deep down inside me wished he would be.

I wheeled myself into a bar. It wasn't anything like the nightclubs I partied in as a teenager, but it was nice. I was surrounded by adults, not dancing girls.

"Holy shit!" a younger looking man exclaimed, jumping off of his bar stool. "You're James Diamond!"

I smirked and nodded. "Did the wheelchair give it away?"

He jumped over to me, helping me sit in a barstool. "Well yeah, but your face isn't something people easily forget either." I smiled. "I saw Crosby check you into the boards, though. That looked painful." I cringed, smile long gone. Sidney Crosby was the center of the Penguins, and he hated me. I wasn't surprised when he was the one shoving me against the glass, ruining the rest of my season.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked, motioning towards the bartender on the other side of the bar. I smirked at him. "Sure, if you want to."

The kid got back out of his seat and walked over to the bartender, waiting for his turn to order for the two of us.

"So, James Diamond accepted a pity drink? There's something I would've never expected. But then again, you being a hockey player is equally surprising." the man two seats down from me stated, hands wrapped around a half empty beer glass.

I studied him, noticing the way he slouched, the way his hair almost covered his face, the Ray Bans perched on his nose. I scowled. "Because whenever I see someone wearing sunglasses at night in New York, I never assume that they're a douche."

He turned his head slightly to look at me. "There's something I never missed. Your sarcasm."

"Why'd you never answer my calls?"

He shook his head, laughing to himself. "You really dont know? You're not as smart as people think you are. Though, I've never thought you were smart to begin with."

I rolled my eyes. "Is there a list of things you hate about me or something? Or is today just hate on James Diamond day?"

"More like a list. Theres no way in hell I'd know about a day involving you. Want me to go down it?"

I glanced down at my watch. "Why not, I've got time."

"Your attitude. The way you thought you were better than everyone. The way you cared so much about your god damned image. Why you spent hours in the bathroom everyday, I'll never know. Should I continue?" he asked, sipping from his glass.

The kid was walking back over towards us, drinks in hand. "You know what? Maybe we could continue this the next time we see each other. You know, to give us something to talk about."

He smirked, finishing his drink. "You mean, in four years? By mistake? Sure, why not." and with that, he pushed away from the bar and left.

The kid raised his eyebrow, motioning to the retreating figure. "You know him?"

I shrugged, gulping down some beer. "I'm pretty sure everyone does."

His eyebrows came together. "He might've looked a little familiar. Does he play hockey?"

I sighed. "Not anymore."

The kid took a drink of his beer, thinking. "Then who was he?"

I took another swig from my glass. "Kendall Knight."

I found myself bored most of the time. Hockey practice took up most of my time. When I wasn't doing that, I was working out or sleeping. With my leg broken, I couldn't skate. That left working out and sleeping. But there were only so many ways to work out your upper body.

I traded my wheelchair for a pair of crutches. It was hard enough walking through the city, let along wheeling yourself. Kendall's billboards towered over me as I moved along through the crowds. He was ending yet another tour, his last stop in Madison Square Garden. The tickets sold out in under ten seconds.

"Look, James, you can't come to practice," my coach told me yet again over the phone. I was going insane. I needed something to do. "But look, if you are that bored, can you do me a favor?"

I accepted immediately. Anything would be better than sitting around my apartment all day.

"Good. Can you take Rachel to a concert tonight? You know how safe she feels around you. She loves you. Plus, backstage passes. Are you in?" Rachel was Coach's sixteen year old daughter. He was right, she did love me. She came to almost every practice. My team joked around that she had a crush on me sometimes. Sometimes, I agreed.

If I said no, she would probably have to go with a butler or driver. The driving age in the city was eighteen, after all. At least she'd have more fun with me, right? And- I didn't need my crutches.

"I'm in."

Thinking back, it would've been smart to ask what concert we were going to. Or I could've just assumed. What concert would a sixteen year old girl want to go see? Kendall Knight.

"Thank you so much, James!" Rachel said as we pulled into the parking lot. We were late, but it didn't matter. We had parking passes.

I smiled as I pulled my Aston into a spot. "No problem, sweetie."

The concert was full of screaming girls. I'm pretty sure I was the only guy my age there, let alone guy in general. The only other ones I spotted were excited teens and grumpy dads, pecking at their phones the whole time. Probably checking to see how much longer they'd have to stand there. Either that, or plotting on a good time to blame traffic and drag their screaming daughters out of there.

Lucky for me, I didn't have that excuse.

Kendall was great on stage. I remembered when the band first started, all of those vigorous dance lessons with Mr. X and hours of harmonies. They paid off for Kendall, obviously. He was doing amazing.

The concert ended sooner than I thought it would. Looking down at my watch, I was shocked. We'd been here for three hours, yet it only felt like one.

Rachel intertwined our fingers, dragging me towards back stage. I would've pulled my hand out of hers, but I was too distracted by my thoughts. _Where did the time go?_

After a few minutes of walking, we ended up down a crowded hallway. People with passes were let through a pair of double doors. People like us.

"I wonder if he would ever date me." Rachel stated dreamily as we entered the back stage area.

I sighed, shaking my head. "He's twenty four, honey. That's not exactly legal."

She looked at me, eyes wide. "You know how old Kendall is? How?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but someone else beat me to it. A blonde someone else. "Isn't she a little young, James? Or did everyone else reject you?"

I rolled my eyes, turning around to face my old friend. "It turns out most of the older, attractive women I ask out aren't interested in your concerts, Kendall."

He smirked, leaning against a wall. "Well, there's that sarcasm I love again."

Rachel stood next to me, eyes wide. "James...you know Kendall?" she asked slowly. I nodded. "Yup."

She shrieked. "Oh my god! How?"

Kendall put his hand on her shoulder. "Believe it or not, sweetie, I was supposed to be the star hockey player out of the two of us."

She turned to look up at me. "You played hockey together? Oh my gosh! That's so cool! Did you sing together?"

Kendall and I nodded, a scowl on my face. "That was a really long time ago, though. Five years, was it?"

She hugged me tightly. "And to think you might not have come with me! But I want a soda. I'll be back, James!"

Kendall smirked at me while she walked away. "She's in love with you. But really, why are you here? Didn't wanna wait four more years to see me?"

I scoffed. "I would've preferred longer. But that's Coach's pride and joy. I'd do anything for her. Even suffer through one of your stupid concerts." That was a lie. That was a huge lie. I didn't suffer at all. I just couldn't give Kendall the satisfaction.

"Right, right. So if that letter really was for me, I'd be the one suffering through your concerts with a fourteen year old?"

I frowned. "Sixteen. And yeah, sure, something like that."

He crossed his arms over his chest, still leaning on the wall. "I think it's funny that you got the Wild to send me a letter, you know."

I leaned next to him, watching Rachel across the room. "It wasn't supposed to be a joke."

"Yeah, but unlike you, I don't take things out of pity." He smirked yet again. "And besides, who else would there be to steal your dream?"

I clenched my jaw. "That's what this is all about? Getting even?"

He turned to look at me, fists now at his side. "You never had to accept that letter, James."

"And what was I supposed to do?" I exclaimed, shoving off the wall to get in his face. "We were running out of money, Kendall. I needed a job!"

He shoved my backwards. "Not my job!"

We were both breathing heavily, fists clenched at our sides. The entire room was silent, watching. I quickly reached for Rachel, pulling her towards the door.

A hand shot out, grabbing mine. Kendall jotted something out with an official 'Kendall Knight' pen. He let my hand go when he was done, letting me leave with Rachel.

"What was that about?" she asked, as we made our way to the parking lot.

I shrugged, looking down at my hand. "It's been a while, sweetie. That's all."

The letters stared at me, black on white skin. It was an address.

I ignored it for a few days after, the lettered itching on my skin. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I wouldn't let him win. His billboards stared me down on a daily basis, anyway. I could only take so much of Kendall.

There weren't many things to do to consume my time. Somehow, by the end of the week, I was standing outside of his presidential suite. I raided my fist hesitantly, knocking. He answered within moments.

"You lack a sense of urgency. Something else to add to your list."

I pushed passed him, walking inside his large hotel room. "Why'd you want me to come here?"

I turned around, facing him where he stood by the door.

"Can't I just miss my old best friend?" _Old best friend._ I rolled my eyes.

"Whats the real reason?"

He slowly made his way towards me, stopping inches away. I didn't back off when he didn't. He wouldn't win.

His hand came up to my chest, lazily tracing patterns. "You know how they always told us to forget? To focus on our careers and nothing else?" He asked, eyes locked with mine. I nodded slowly, confused. His hand stopped moving, instead, gripping my shirt. "I never forgot." He pulled me down slightly, pulling our mouths together.

Kissing Kendall was like kissing a god. He was a god, to some people. Like in my moms eyes. I was her athletic son, the one she was proud of, but not enough to endorse with her own company. Kendall, though, 'reached out to the right audience'. If she could pick sons, she'd pick him. Because he was better than me, always.

Ever since that night in the club bathroom, I've wanted to know. If Kendall really wanted me, or if it was just the alchohol talking. If it was only a one time thing. If he felt the same way I did.

"I hate how you always acted like an idiot when we all knew you weren't." Kendall breathed out before pushing me against a wall, lips on mine again.

"I...I hate how everyone assumed you were the leader of the group." I gasped out in between rough kisses, clinging to him as we made our way down a short hallway.

"I hate how you spent so much time with random girls." My shirt was thrown on the floor, along with his. Our hands wandered across each others bare skin, mapping out the planes of muscle and flesh as we continued. The back of my legs hit his bed, sending us tumbling backwards. I flinched as pain shot through my knee.

"Me? I hate how you spent every waking moment with Jo." Kendall's fingers were working on my belt, pulling it loose from my pants. Once it was free, his hand disappeared down the front of my pants.

"I hate your mommy issues."

I gasped as Kendall gripped my hard self, fingers sliding below the fabric of my boxers. "I hate your daddy issues."

"You're not one to talk. You have them too." He mumbled before attatching our lips again, jerking me off. I moaned, thrusting against him.

As much as it pained me, I knew that I never hated Kendall. I was hopelessly in love with him from the start, his talents and personality, even his anger management problems. That moment in the bathroom started it all, sparking wet dreams and sex fantasies deep inside me. I imagined his hands moving down my sides like they were just doing. I imagined him thrusting into me like he just was. I imagined him kissing me passionately, leaving me breatheless like I was right now. My dreams became reality.

It was weird now, though. his hands were smooth against my skin as we moved against eachother. He wasn't the hockey player from Minesota anymore. He was Kendall Knight, national superstar and singing sensation.

"You've changed, James," Kendall breathed out once we were done, face half burried in his pillow.

I raised an eyebrow, eyes locked with his. "How?"

He reached out, gripping my hand. "You have calluses. Bruises. More muslces than before, believe it or not."

I smiled. "And now you're the opposite. It was weird, to tell you the truth. You're supposed to be Kendall Knight, the hockey player. You should be the one with all the calluses, not me."

Kendall brushed his hand over my cheek. "It was supposed to happen this way. It makes perfect sence, if you think about it."

My eyebrows came together. "I dont understand."

"I'm a star now, James. And I shine for you."

* * *

><p><strong>Did it suck as badly as I felt like it did? You should review:P you know...let me know and all. <strong>

**Thanks for reading(:**


	2. Silver Lining

Silver Lining

* * *

><p><strong>Everyone (apparently) loved Spotlights! Which surprised me, really. I didn't really like it. I wasn't done writing it, but I wanted to get it out there, you know? <strong>

**Anyway- People requested that I continued the story. Quite frankly, I like where I ended it. So SURPRISE! You get the same story but in Kendall's POV!**

**It's different but the same and- well- the same story told a different way. You get the picture.**

**But sit back, relax, and ENJOY!**

* * *

><p>If anyone asked me, I'd tell them I had three best friends. James, Logan, and Carlos. If they could ever read my mind, they'd know it was a lie.<p>

I was an athlete, plain and simple. As a kid, Carlos, Logan and I spent hours racing around the local ice rink, chasing a little black puck as our families cheered us on from the stands. One of my friends was missing, though. My best friend.

James wasn't like most kids. He wasn't into sports like the rest of us. He was into singing and acting. Two things I didn't think were that important.

I didn't see James much, but that's what made us best friends. Logan and Carlos were like my brothers. James was always there for me, even though he technically wasn't. Not seeing him as much made it special. It made me appreciate him more.

I used to look forward to our occasional weekend sleepovers, the forts we made and the secrets we shared. It was almost like therapy for me. My family life was falling apart. He was the only one who knew.

Sometime when I was ten, James went away for a week to LA. It didn't bother me when he left, I never saw him anyway. What was a week without seeing James when that's all we've ever known?

It got bad after that, though. Really bad.

Instead of seeing him every one or two weeks, it turned into once a month. After that, we didn't even have anymore sleepovers. Our friendship was falling apart.

I put up with the change, knowing he was having family issues like I was. I figured he was handling it differently then me. I liked to talk it out. Maybe he just liked to sing it out instead.

This went on for years. Four, to be exact. Until one of our rare sleepovers.

"We never hang out anymore, man." I spoke, back pressed against the shingles of James's roof.

He sighed, eyes searching the stars. "I know."

I sat up, glaring. This was one of the few times I ever see him, and he blows me off? "Do you even care?"

He slowly turned to me, eyes still absorbed in the sky. "What?"

I rolled me eyes and stood up, walking towards his bedroom window. If he didn't want to hang out with me, then I was done. "Fuck you, dude."

"Wait!" he shouted, pushing himself up. "I care about a lot of things!"

"Yeah," I folded my arms across my chest. "Like having everyone love you. And looking perfect. And being famous. Just not what matters." I bit my lip, thinking about us. We mattered. Our friendship mattered.

"Are you telling me none of that matters?" he asked, glaring at me. I obviously offended him. Good.

I scoffed. "Friendship matters, James. Fami-" I cut myself off, clearing my throat. Family was a sensitive subject for both of us, especially me after my dad walked out on us. I shuttered at the memory. "Maybe if you'd stop staring at the stars for five minutes, you'd know this."

"But Kendall," he said, turning back to look at the sky. "Stars are so amazing. The light travels millions of miles just to appear and then-"

I suppressed the urge to punch him, deciding to fix our train wreck of a friendship from crashing for the final time.

"Yeah, I've heard this. In Hollywood, they're on the ground. I know. But do you know what makes these stars so special?" I asked, walking back over to him. He shook his head as I sat back down next to him. "They're like little spotlights, shining for you. Like you said, they travel millions of miles, but they do that for you and everything you do. And they're always there, James. The people in Hollywood aren't special enough to have these following them around. But you are."

He tilted my head to the side, sitting down. "Why do I feel like you just recited a Coldplay song?"

I shoved him playfully before lying next to him again. Silence surrounded us as we watched the stars. After a few minutes, an idea popped into my head.

"Look at the stars, Look how they shine for you, and everything you do..."

I probably couldn't tell you the day I realized I loved James. It was probably on one of the few days we actually saw each other. Or maybe it was during one of my hockey practices, when the cold of the ice cleared my head. Maybe it was one of the rare nights we had sleepovers together. All I know is that it was one of those days before the audition. The audition that changed our lives.

You know, after I declined their offer.

"What the hell is your problem?" James demanded, shoving my shoulder. His usually beautiful eyes were practically red with fury. I blinked, entranced by his anger. He never was. Thats what made it weird.

He growled after a moment, spinning around and exploding out of the emergency exit. A blaring alarm drifted into the distance as he ran through the snow and ice of Minnesota.

"James!" I shouted after him, looking around at our friends, asking them what to do with my eyes.

Carlos just looked confused and shocked, like he didn't know why James reacted the way he did. I knew why, though. I ruined his dream. I ruined it by not sacrificing my own. I should've been pissed that he just expected that of me. But I couldn't be mad at James, ever.

Logan stared at me, one eyebrow raised as if saying 'why are you still standing here?'. Quite frankly, I agreed.

That's probably how I ended up sprinting into the parking lot, following James's footprints in the snow.

He ended up in a clearing in the middle of the woods, pant legs soaked from trekking through the snow and ice. My heart shattered as he fell to his knees, screaming out in frustration. I stayed hidden behind a tree in the forest. He needed his space, and I was okay with that.

After a few minutes, James fell to the ground. I ran up to him in a panic, only to realize he'd fallen asleep. I didn't blame him much. Running through the woods in the winter did tend to ware you out.

I needed to get him home, to a proper bed. I needed to carry him. A fireman's carry would be easiest, but it was so graceless. Bridal-style was more caring, but a bit awkward. And very awkward to explain, if anyone saw us.

I sighed, lifting him up with one arm behind his back and the other under his knees. He was heavy, but I was a hockey player. I was used to weight.

"Kendall," he muttered. I looked down at his face, thinking I woke him up. His eyes were closed. "They don't shine for me, Kendall. They shine for you. Like always."

My heart broke as I looked ahead, reaching the road his house was on. He was in pain, that much was obvious. Not physical pain, but mental pain. And it was all my fault.

This was James, though. I'd do anything for him. Even give up my own dream.

"Look at the stars," I sung under my breath as I reached his house. "Look how they shine for you, and everything you do..."

That night I called the producer back, offering him an ultimatum. He either took all of us, or none of us. Simple as that. He accepted.

Carlos stayed over James's house that night, telling him the news. I doubted he'd want to see my face after everything that'd happened.

It was almost predictable how James's attitude towards me changed after that day. I was his hero. I gave him his dream.

Sometimes I wondered if it was even his dream anymore. It seemed more like his moms dream.

In the beginning, everything was all fun and games. We got an amazing apartment in Los Angeles. We got to record and preform songs and dances for millions of screaming fans. People were paying us to do something we loved. Something fun. To put it simply- we were living the life. The American dream. James's dream.

I still wasn't all for it, though. I kept my hockey roots, training James, Carlos, and Logan until they were just as good as I was. It was a goal of mine, to never forget where I came from, and it helped. It cleared my head. It made me forget about ever loving James.

I got a girlfriend after a little while. Did I like her? Sure. Did I love her? No. In my heart I knew she would never have what James and I did, sharing secrets under out blanket forts. But that was okay. She filled the gap I created.

Parties became a necessity to survive as a band. Parties at nightclubs until the sun was just peaking over the horizon. Parties with grinding girls, underaged drinking, and drugs. If people saw us at parties, they'd tell the press. And you know what they say- any press is good press.

That was something James always loved about Hollywood. Nineteen year olds could be puking in the streets from drinking too much and no cops were ever called. No, the paparazzi were called instead. He was getting the attention he so desperately craved.

And if you can't out out the fire, why not fuel it?

It was something I wanted. It was something I wanted really badly. It was James.

"Dance with me." I whispered in his ear one night, grinding up behind him. He immediately responded, pressing back against my hips. A drunken Logan wolf whistled, smiling brightly as a girl attactched herself to his jugular.

He seemed to be enjoying himself. Why shouldn't James too?

My mouth connected with James's neck. He froze under my lips, probably wondering what the hell I was doing. Quite frankly, I agreed._ I can blame it on being too drunk and-_

He spun around, facing me, connecting our lips.

I smiled, in pure bliss. _Nothing could stop me now, not even-_

Carlos slammed into us. "S-sorry fellas!" he shouted over the music, smiling like an idiot. "T-that guy o-over theree gave me a cheeseburger! E-except it wasn't?"

I ignored his rambling. Carlos was an adult. He could take care of himself.

My hard wrapped around James's wrist, dragging him behind me into the bathroom. I slammed him against the wall, hoping no unsuspecting guy was in one of the stalls.

Our mouths assaulted eachother for a few minutes before I pulled away. James looked like he was in heaven, eyes practically black with lust. "I want you." I mumbled, connecting my mouth to his neck again.

Carlos drunkenly stumbled into the tiny room, yanking me off of James. "Logie says it's time to spliiit." he slurred, dragging me out to the limo, James in persuit.

That night was never mentioned again. I doubted he even remembered it with the amount of drinking he did. Would bringing it up make him remember? Would he hate me? Would he feel the same way?

About six months after making out with James in the bathroom of that club, the band broke up.

I remember helping Logan pack his bags for medical school. I thought it was the end of the world. Our little group of best friends was breaking up for the first time since second grade.

Carlos was next, landing an acting job on an up and coming sitcom. He moved out of the apartment, saying he needed to live closer to the set.

It was just the two of us after that.

I broke it off with Jo, opting to spend that time at the rink with James. We needed time to relax. We needed a reminder of home. Hockey was the one thing that kept us together besides singing.

James was good- no, amazing. For someone who hasn't been skating since he could walk, he was doing surprisingly well. I wad proud, but oddly upset. Hockey was what I was good at. He was the singer.

James handed me the mail one day a little after his twentith birthday. A huge smile graced his face as I flipped through the envelopes. I walked into my room, smiling too. James's happiness was contagious.

My eyes widened as an envelope hit the top of my little stack. It was from the New York Rangers. I threw the pile aside, ripping open the envelope.

_As you may know, the old center of the New York Rangers was badly injured and will be retiring from the team. Head coach John Tortorella has requested that you, James Diamond, fly out to New York to become the new team center._

My smile fell. _James? James Diamond? Not Kendall Knight?_

"Is this some kind of joke?" I stormed out of my room, shoving the letter in his face. His eyebrows came together, bright smile falling. "No? It just came in the mail today for you-"

"This is for YOU, you asshole!" I flicked the paper at him, storming down the hall. He was probably just trying to rub it in. Just because I was better at singing didn't mean he had to be better at hockey- my life dream. I gave that up for him. I gave up what he was now receiving.

"Kendall, wait!" He shouted after me. A slamming door was my reply.

Three days later, James was on a plane to New York while Gustavo and I discussed my new solo career.

It didn't take very long for my career to skyrocket. We thought BTR was doing amazing- but I was doing better then we ever did by far. I was filling entire stadiums while we only filled small venues as a boy band.

James was gone, and life was good.

A few years later, Kelly handed me a letter- a letter from the Minnesota Wild. I laughed, ripping it in half before I even read it. If the Minnesota Wild really wanted me, they would've asked years ago. I didn't need James to use his connections to get me accepted. I was a pop star now. I didn't need hockey.

I would watch James play sometimes in my limo or jet. He wasn't bad, but was never good in my eyes. Not as good as I was.

"You're a Rangers fan? I thought you were from Minnesota." Kelly's assistant asked from his spot next to me. I turned away, eyes searching the clouds outside the plane window.

"Something like that." I muttered, Kelly's knowing look catching my attention from the seat across from me. I frowned, turning back to the window.

I wasn't a Rangers fan. I was a hockey fan. I was a James fan.

My tour was ending, Madison Square Garden being the last show. The team was pumped, the stylists and effects groups excited for one last show.

I was excited too, but for a different reason. James was in New York. James. James. Everything was about James.

"It's an obsession, really," Gustavo said from the doorway of my dressing room. We just finished practicing for the concert. I jumped, turning to face him. "What do you mean?"

He crosses his arms. "You and James. It's been four years, Kendall, get over him."

I stood from my seat. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't act like you don't know. You stalk him like a sick fan girl. For everything he did to you, you should hate him."

I grit my teeth. _Everything he did to me? _"I do."

"For some reason I doubt that. But you need to get over him. Go out tonight. Get drunk. But most importantly, get over him."

I rolled my eyes, pushing past him. "Right."

I ended up wandering the streets of New York. Sunglasses sat on my nose, a hood over my hair. I wasn't in the mood to deal with fans.

Which is how I ended up in an old bar. It was mostly empty, a few guys sitting at tables. I sat at the end of the bar, closest to the door. A young guy was a few seats down, texting on his phone. He wasn't bad looking, but he wasn't my type. He had blonde hair, not brown.

I sat there, ordering a few beers, drinking down my issues. Money doesn't get you happiness. You couldn't buy love.

"Holy shit!" The blonde a few seats down exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. "You're James Diamond!"

I froze, clutching a glass of beer. Was he here? Was it really him?

"Did the wheelchair give it away?" A deep voice joked from behind me. My eyes widened. It was him. This was real.

"Well yeah, but your face isn't something people easily forget either." A frown appeared on my face as the stranger helped James sit two seats from me. "I saw Crosby check you into the boards, though. That looked painful." I cringed. Sidney Crosby was the center of the Penguins. From what I heard, he was a dick. But he hurt James? This was news to me.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked, motioning towards the bartender on the other side of the bar.

"Sure, if you want to." James replied. I could never forget his voice, ever. But I remembered what Gustavo said to me, about getting over him. I always broke the rules.

"So, James Diamond accepted a pity drink?" I murmured. _No turning back now_. "There's something I would've never expected. But then again, you being a hockey player is equally surprising." I stated.

I noticed him scowl. "Because whenever I see someone wearing sunglasses at night in New York, I never assume that they're a douche."

I turned his head slightly to look at him. This was James, the James I loved. The James I couldn't love. "There's something I never missed. Your sarcasm."

"Ah. So there's a list?"

"Want me to go down it?"

He glanced down at his watch. "Why not, I've got time."

I cleared my throat, going through the things I hated about him. The things that made him human. The things that made me want him more. "Your attitude. The way you thought you were better than everyone. The way you cared so much about your god damned image. Why you spent hours in the bathroom everyday, I'll never know. Should I continue?" I asked, sipping from my glass.

The kid was walking back over towards us, drinks in hand. "You know what? Maybe we could continue this the next time we see each other. You know, to give us something to talk about."

I smirked, finishing my drink. "You mean, in four years? By mistake? Sure, why not." and with that, I pushed away from the bar and left.

My hands were shaking by the time I reached the door. "You know him?" I heard the stranger asked. "I'm pretty sure everyone does." James replied, jealousy in his voice. I smirked. He deserved it.

A few days went by before it was time for my concert. I paced through my dressing room.

"Calm down," I whispered to myself, hands behind my neck. "It's the last show. Then you can just go home an forget all about- everything."

I knew that was a lie, though. I couldn't just go home, where ever that was, and forget. Minnesota was ruined. New York was ruined. LA was ruined. And it was all his fault.

"You know how I said you had anger management problems back in the day?" Gustavo asked, leaning against my door for the second time that week. "I lied. I think you just have emotion management problems."

I rolled my eyes, folding my arms across my chest. "Is this some sort or pep talk? Because it sucks."

Gustavo glanced at his watch. "Nah, I just wanted to say they need you up there- now. And to look out for your Romeo. Or Juliet. I don't know who wears the pants in this 'relationship'. He just showed up with some girl in the fourth row. A little late if you ask me, but he was never known for being punctual." He droned on before pushing himself off the door.

"He's here?" I asked, frozen in shock.

Gustavo just smiled. "Good luck, kid."

The rush of walking out on a stage never gets old, no matter how many times you've done it. Having people scream for you, it's amazing. I could see girls shaking with excitement.

And Gustavo was right. James sat in the fourth row surrounded by girls. None of them were our age though, so it didn't bother me. What bothered me was that he was there in the first place, staring at his phone like every other guy here.

"Shit." I breathed, flinching as I heard my voice echoing across the stage. The mic was just under my mouth. Thankfully, the cheering covered up what I said. That wouldn't hold Gustavo back later, though.

Avoiding someone for three hours was a vigorous task. It was almost impossible not to catch his eyes when he was so close to the stage, directly in front of me.

What was worse, though, was the girl clinging to his arm the entire time.

I exited the stage, face soaked with sweat. Gustavo stood behind the curtain, arms crosses.

"What the hell was that?" he exclaimed, following me as I walked to my dressing room. I stormed into the tiny room, door hitting the wall loudly. Gustavo was still behind me, though.

"That was nothing, Gustavo. At least, to the fans."

"What are you talking about!" He threw his arms up in aggravation. "You said 'shit' in front of thousands of people! Kids!"

He kept ranting, but I ignored him, shoving my face into a towel. It was the night that would never end. After hours of performing, I'd have to go back stage and listen to girls and boys ramble on about how big of an inspiration I was to them, or how much they loved me. How many posters they had hanging on their walls. How many concerts of mine they've been to. Some would bring up Big Time Rush, and my night would be ruined.

What better way to spend the night than wallowing in your past?

"Leave the kid alone, Gustavo." A feminine voice spoke. I pulled the now damp towel off my face, noticing Kelly standing in the door with a clip board.

"I'm not a kid."

Kelly rolled her eyes, pushing past a very angry Gustavo. "Here's the back stage list. I thought you'd want to see it. You know, to know who's back there for you." She winked, walking out of the room.

I skimmed through the list, landing on the one name I wanted to hate so desperately.

_James Diamond._

A few minutes later, after showering and drying my hair, I slipped into some sweats and made my way backstage._ If your friends judge you, then they were never your friends to begin with_. I remember my mom telling me that as a kid. If it applied to my friends, it applied to my fans too.

I slid through the backstage door, leading into a room filled with rich fans and food. Most of them didn't recognize me without my designer clothes, and I was glad. I wasn't looking for them. I was looking for James.

The door I was standing in front of pushed open, shoving me to the side. My face flushed as I turned to yell at them.

"...how old Kendall is? How?"

My mind went blank as James walked through the door, the girl from before at his side. I frowned. "Isn't she a little young, James? Or did everyone else reject you?"

He glanced over at me, rolling his eyes before completely facing me. "It turns out most of the older, attractive women I ask out aren't interested in your concerts, Kendall."

I smirked as James's companions face fell. I leaned against the wall, happy that he didn't even seem to notice. "Well, there's that sarcasm I love again."

"James...you know Kendall?" The girl asked slowly. He nodded. "Unfortunately."

She shrieked. "Oh my god! How?" I put my hand on her shoulder. "Believe it or not, sweetie, I was supposed to be the star hockey player here."

She slowly turned to look at James. "And you were supposed to be..."

"The famous singing sensation with millions of screaming fans, yeah." He smirked, but not happily.

She hugged him tightly. I frowned. "That would've been so cool! As much as I love your hockey posters, it'd be awesome to have some of you singing!"

My eyebrows came together. "You have posters of both of us?" _Separate or Big Time Rush...?_

She nodded, still hugging James. "I love both of you. It's so cool that you're friends too!"

I almost laughed at how untrue that was. James put his hand on her blonde head before I could speak up. "Yeah, sweetie. It is."

"Okay," she said, pulling away from him. "I'm getting a drink."

I turned and smirked at James while she walked away. "Really, why are you here? Didn't wanna wait four more years to see me?"

He scoffed. "I would've preferred longer. But that's Coach's pride and joy. I'd do anything for her. Even suffer through one of your stupid concerts." I rolled my eyes, not believing a word he was saying. When you were as close as we were, you tend to know when they lie.

"Right, right. So if that letter really was for me, I'd be the one suffering through your concerts?"

He frowned. "Yeah, something like that."

I crossed my arms over my chest, still leaning on the wall. "I think it's funny that you got the Wild to send me a letter, you know."

He leaned next to my, watching the blonde child from across the room. "It wasn't supposed to be a joke."

"Yeah, but unlike you, I don't take things out of pity." I smirked yet again, without humor. "And besides, who else would there be to steal your dream?"

He clenched my jaw. "That's what this is all about? Getting even?"

_Fuck yes! _I wanted to scream, but it wasn't appropriate. Not here.

I turned to look at him, fists now at my side. "You never had to accept that letter, James."

"And what was I supposed to do?" he exclaimed, shoving off the wall to get in my face. "We were running out of money, Kendall. I needed a job!"

I would've loved the closeness, but not now. Not during a fight. I shoved him backwards, beyond angry. "Not my job!"

We were both breathing heavily, fists clenched at our sides. The entire room was silent, watching. James quickly reached for the girl, pulling her towards the door.

I panicked. He was leaving. He was leaving again. I didn't want to lose him. I needed him.

My hand shot out, grabbing his, jotting down my address with the closest pen I could grab.

"What was that about?" The blonde asked as they made our way to the parking lot. I didn't hear his answer.

"Excuse me, sir. That pen belongs to my daughter." A women in a business suit said, a ten year old girl at her side. I sighed, handing her the pen.

"I touched it. So now it's better."

The girls eyes went wide. "Kendall Knight!"

I left the room before I was ambushed. Fans...fans were insane.

I carefully avoided another lecture from Gustavo as I waited in my penthouse for James. I didn't know how long I'd have to wait for him, but he'd come eventually. I needed him to. I needed to show him what he meant to me.

I just didn't expect it to take three days.

I stepped out of one of the two elevators leading to the top floor. It was a pretty bad day, Gustavo finally finding me alone at the studio. Kelly wasn't there to save me this time.

I gripped my keys, shoving them into the lock and twisting the door open. I needed a massage. I needed a hot bath. I needed something stress relieving.

That something was definitely not the man stepping out of the elevator.

I shut my door quickly and quietly. Was that really James? Or was I just seeing things?

A timid knock rang through my head, pressed against the door. I sighed, gathering what little strength I had left from my day and swung it open.

"You lack a sense of urgency. Something else to add to your list." I stated, folding my arms.

James ignored me, though, walking inside my large hotel room. "Why'd you want me to come here?"

He turned around, practically bumping into me. Neither of us backed off. _Good._

My hand came up to his chest, lazily tracing patterns. "You know how they always told us to forget? To focus on our careers and nothing else?" I asked, eyes locked with his beautiful hazel ones. He nodded slowly, confused. My hand stopped moving, instead, gripping his shirt. "I never forgot." I pulled him down slightly, pulling our mouths together. I smiled the moment he started kissing back.

He was holding back, though. Lost in thought.

"I hate how you always acted like an idiot when we all knew you weren't." I breathed out before pushing him against a wall, lips on his again. I wanted a better reaction. I wanted him to love me too.

"I...I hate how everyone assumed you were the leader of the group." He gasped out in between rough kisses, clinging to me as we made our way down my short hallway to the bed.

His insults should've been just that, insults. But they weren't. If anything, they turned me on even more.

James wasn't a god. He was a singer, a hockey player. And even though he was a star, he still had his flaws. Just like me. He was _human._

"I hate how you spent so much time with random girls." My shirt was thrown on the floor, along with his. Our hands wandered across each others bare skin, mapping out the planes of muscle and flesh as we continued. The back of his legs hit my bed, sending us tumbling backwards. I barely noticed him flinch in pain, having forgotten about his injury.

"Me? I hate how you spent every waking moment with Jo." My fingers were working on his belt, pulling it loose from his pants. Once it was free, my hand disappeared down his boxers.

It wasn't weird. It was home. James was the home I never truly had.

"I hate your mommy issues."

He gasped as my hands gripped his erection. "I hate your daddy issues."

"You're not one to talk. You have them too." I mumbled before attatching our lips again, jerking him off. He moaned, thrusting against him.

James always had the voice of an angel. Whether he was singing in the shower, performing on stage, or writhing under me now, it would always amaze me. That moment in the bathroom that started it all flooded back to me, sparking wet dreams and sex fantasies deep inside me. I imagined his hands moving down my sides like they were just doing. I imagined his beautiful voice saying my name, more beautiful than my millions of fans all put together. I imagined him kissing me passionately, leaving me breatheless like I was right now. Sweat glistened over both of our bodies, reminding me of concerts, hockey, and home. It brought us back together, both literally and figuratively.

And I couldn't have been happier.

"You've changed, James," I breathed out once we were done, face half buried in my pillow. _On the outside. On the inside, you're still my James. You will always be my James._

He raised an eyebrow, eyes locked with mine. "How?"

I reached out, gripping his hand. "You have calluses. Bruises. More muslces than before, believe it or not."

He smiled his million dollar smile. His real one. "And now you're the opposite. It was weird, to tell you the truth. You're supposed to be Kendall Knight, the hockey player. You should be the one with all the calluses, not me."

I brushed my other hand over his cheek. "It was supposed to happen this way. It makes perfect sence, if you think about it." And it did, it really did.

His eyebrows came together. "I dont understand."

"I'm a star now, James. And I shine for you."

A huge smile graced his features as I pulled him towards me for another breathtaking kiss.

And we were happy. We were _goddamned happy_.

* * *

><p><strong>So how was it? You should tell me! You know, by reviewing! I live for those things- really, I do. And, as always, I'll promise to love you forever. And I mean FOREVER! <strong>

**Lots of love(:**


End file.
